#I owe you all my heart and sanity

[allastoredeer]

Mom Alastor week on twitter gives me life

Dude *sammmmme*

I have been frothing at the mouth over MomAlastorWeek. I literally have a radioapple accidental mpreg crack fic idea that's been ruminating in my brain for months, and this has just made it so much worse.

[brunchable]

Under The Mistletoe | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Fake relationship, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: When your meddling family won’t stop asking about you love life, you roped your arch-nemesis Bucky into pretending to be your boyfriend for Christmas dinner at your parents house. It was pay back for the massive favor he owes you, so he had no choice but to agree. A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The smell of pine and cinnamon wafts through the air as you adjust the cuffs of your sweater, glaring at the man currently making himself at home in your parents’ living room. James Buchanan Barnes—your nemesis, your tormentor, the human equivalent of a lump of coal—lounges on the couch like he’s been a part of your family for years. Your mom already adores him.

“James, more eggnog?” she chirps, holding out a festive mug.

“Of course,” Bucky replies with a smile so charming, you almost believe it’s real. Almost.

You, on the other hand, are clinging to your sanity by the thinnest strand of tinsel. He’s only here because he owes you. Big time. And because your family won’t stop asking when you’ll finally settle down and find someone “worth bringing home for Christmas.”

When you roped Bucky into this charade, you expected the bare minimum. A few fake smiles. Maybe holding your hand once or twice. What you did not expect was him waltzing in here, winning over your family, and actually knowing things about you.

“Y/N hates marshmallows in her hot chocolate,” Bucky says smoothly, stopping your dad mid-scoop. “She’s all about the whipped cream.”

You freeze in the doorway, clutching a tray of cookies like a lifeline. How does he know that? You never even told him that. Your dad raises an eyebrow at you, impressed, while you try to recover from the shock.

“Right,” you stammer, narrowing your eyes at Bucky. “Because you’re so attentive.”

He smirks, the twinkle in his eye more annoying than any Christmas light you’ve ever seen. “It’s a gift.”

× × × ×

The cozy living room, aglow with soft Christmas lights, feels oppressively warm. Not because of the crackling fire or the wool socks your mom forced everyone to wear, but because Bucky’s presence next to you is positively suffocating. His thigh, firm and annoyingly warm, is pressed against yours, and every time he shifts, your nerves jolt like a live wire.

“You’re twitching again,” Bucky murmurs under his breath, leaning closer so his lips almost brush your ear. “Relax. If you keep acting like this, your mom’s going to think I broke your heart or something.”

“Maybe I should tell her you’re insufferable, so she kicks you out,” you snap, voice low enough not to disturb the room. Your family is fully engrossed in Elf, but you swear Bucky’s gaze burns hotter than the fire.

“Go ahead,” he whispers back, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m her favorite now, you know.”

You resist the urge to stab him with the candy cane you’ve been holding for the last ten minutes. Instead, you muster your sweetest fake smile and clap your hands. “Well, Mom, it’s getting late, and I think Bucky has a long drive ahead of him—”

Your mom, standing with a tray of cookies like some sort of Christmas matriarch, freezes mid-step. 

“What?” she exclaims, her eyes wide and full of betrayal. “You’re not staying, Bucky? But I prepared Y/N’s room for the two of you!”

The room goes dead silent.

Bucky’s head swivels toward you so fast, you hear a faint crack. 

“She didn’t tell me about that,” he says, his voice strangled with barely concealed panic. He offers you a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t know we’d be, uh, bunking together.”

You grit your teeth, your face burning hotter than the fireplace. “That’s because I didn’t know,” you hiss, shooting a glare at your mom that could melt Frosty the Snowman.

“How could you make your boyfriend drive all the way out here just to send him back into the snow?” your mom demands, hands on her hips like a Christmas tyrant. “Absolutely not. He’s staying. Come on, Bucky, I’ll show you two to your room.”

“Our room?” you squeak, but your mom is already bustling out of the room, and Bucky, to your utter horror, is rising from the couch to follow her.

He pauses just long enough to lean down and mutter, “This just got a whole lot more interesting, sweetheart.” The grin he flashes is wolfish, and you resist the urge to throttle him with your flannel sleeve.

The room is straight out of a Hallmark Christmas special. The fireplace is lit, the bed is perfectly made with a festive quilt and decorative pillows, and the faint smell of pine fills the air. There’s even mistletoe hanging in the corner, mocking you.

Bucky steps in, glancing around, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and terror. 

“Wow,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Cozy.”

Your mom claps her hands together, beaming. “I knew you two would love it. Oh, and don’t worry, honey, I put the extra pillows in the closet in case you need them.” She winks at you, winks, before spinning on her heel and leaving you to your doom.

The moment the door clicks shut, you whirl on Bucky. “Don’t say a word.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” he drawls, wandering over to the bed and plopping down on it like he owns the place. He stretches out, arms behind his head, and sighs dramatically. “Comfy. We’re gonna have a great night.”

You stare at him, horrified. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”

He raises an eyebrow, patting the quilt beside him. “I don’t think your mom would approve.”

You throw a decorative pillow at his face, which he catches with infuriating ease. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? You’re the one who dragged me here.”

“You owed me!”

“And I’m paying you back,” he says with a grin, tossing the pillow back at you. “With interest, apparently.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

Bucky leans forward, his grin softening just a touch. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just one night. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Somehow, that promise doesn’t reassure you in the slightest. You glare at him one last time before grabbing a blanket from the closet and stomping to the couch by the fireplace.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you.

“To sleep.”

“Suit yourself.” 

You don’t have to look to know he’s smirking again. You grab another pillow and resist the urge to launch it at his stupidly handsome face.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

× × × ×

The fire had long since died, leaving the room shrouded in a cold that no amount of decorative holiday cheer could banish. You’d been curled up on the couch under a threadbare blanket that smelled faintly of cinnamon and humiliation for hours, but now you were shivering so hard you were worried your teeth might chatter loud enough to wake the whole house.

You shot a death glare at Bucky, sprawled out on the bed like a smug prince in his flannel pajamas, the quilt pulled up to his chin. The nerve of him actually letting you sleep on the couch while he hogged the bed like he didn’t owe you his very existence—or at least this ridiculous favor.

Finally, when your toes felt like icicles and you were seriously debating setting your pride on fire just to warm up, you caved. You untangled yourself from the blanket, muttering curses under your breath, and tiptoed toward the bed.

It would have been stealthy. It would have been smooth. Except your foot made direct, agonizing contact with the solid oak footboard.

Pain exploded through your toe, and you bit back a screech so feral you probably looked like a Christmas banshee. Instead, you crumpled to the floor, clutching your foot and mouthing a stream of silent profanities that would make Santa's naughty list blush.

“Mother F—!” you hissed at yourself, wincing as you hobbled the rest of the way to the bed. You crawled onto the empty side like some kind of injured burglar, trying to be as silent as possible. Your toe throbbed in time with your heartbeat, but you focused on one thing: the warm cocoon of blankets just inches away.

Finally, you slid under the covers, sighing as the heat from the quilt enveloped you. Bliss. Sweet, sweet bliss. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t even notice—

“Could’ve just asked, you know.”

You nearly launched yourself out of the bed in shock, your heart leaping into your throat. “What the—!” you whisper-screeched, clutching the quilt to your chest.

Bucky’s voice, low and laced with amusement, drifted through the darkness. “I was awake the whole time.”

“You—!” Words failed you as your face burned with embarrassment. “Then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I was curious how far you’d go before giving up.” You could hear the grin in his voice.

“You’re the worst.”

“Debatable. I didn’t laugh when you stubbed your toe.”

“You heard that?!”

“Sweetheart, I think the neighbours heard that.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter as you stared at him, outraged.

“I hate you,” you snapped, yanking the quilt tighter around you and turning your back on him.

But before you could stew in your annoyance, you felt a hand reach over and pull part of the blanket from you, wrapping it snugly around your side. You froze as his voice softened, amusement fading.

“Relax. I don’t bite. Unless you’re still mad about the couch.”

“I am.”

“Noted.” He shifted, and his voice dropped lower, warmer. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You turned over, your curiosity finally getting the better of you. Facing Bucky’s silhouette in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, you squinted at him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

He exhaled softly, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Without a word, he reached over and flicked on the small lamp on his side of the bed, filling the room with a soft golden glow. The shadows on his face softened, and he turned to face you fully, propping his head up on his hand.

“I’m not used to a soft, warm, comfortable bed,” he said simply, his voice low and quiet.

That wasn’t the answer you expected. “Why not?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

Bucky’s gaze flickered to the blanket between you before settling back on your face. “I usually sleep on the floor.”

Your jaw dropped. “The floor? Why?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal, like it didn’t hurt to admit. “I have a bed,” he said casually, “but… being uncomfortable has kind of become my normal.”

Your heart sank at his admission. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, like he didn’t even consider it strange—made something in your chest tighten. You swallowed hard, trying to shove down the wave of sympathy threatening to show on your face.

“Oh,” you said, clearing your throat, but it came out too soft, too affected. You forced yourself to straighten up, busying your hands by tucking the quilt tighter around you. “Well, uh… this bed uncomfortably soft, so, lucky you?”

You wanted to kick yourself for how awkward that sounded. But he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. 

“Yeah, lucky me.”

The room fell into silence, save for the soft crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace. You tried to avoid his gaze, but something in the room caught your eye, and you froze.

Dangling right above the headboard, in plain sight, was a sprig of mistletoe. The ribbon holding it swayed slightly, mocking you with its festive cheer.

Your brain scrambled. How had you missed that earlier? Why on earth was it there? Did mom hang it on purpose? Of course she did! That woman was a menace.

You could feel Bucky’s gaze lingering on you, and your heart thumped louder with each passing second. You knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed the stupid sprig of mistletoe dangling above the headboard, so you needed to distract him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his brow quirking up in suspicion as he started to turn his head.

“Nothing!” you yelped, throwing the quilt over your face in a panic. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Goodnight!”

For a second, there was silence. Then, the soft creak of the bed as Bucky shifted, his voice low and amused. “Wait a second…”

You could practically hear the smirk spreading across his face as realization dawned.

“Oh, would you look at that.”

Your stomach flipped as you slowly peeked out from under the quilt. Sure enough, Bucky was staring right at the mistletoe, his lips curving into the most maddeningly smug grin you’d ever seen.

“Mistletoe,” he said, his tone practically dripping with glee. “Right above our heads. What are the odds, huh?”

“Coincidence,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket back over your face.

He chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. “You know what they say about mistletoe, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” you groaned, your voice muffled by the quilt.

“Oh, but I think I have to,” he replied, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “It’s tradition, after all.”

You peeked out again, glaring at him. “It’s not tradition if we just pretend it doesn’t exist.”

He tilted his head, mock-pondering. “Hmm. Ignoring it feels a little… Grinch-like, don’t you think? And you wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas, would you?”

“I swear to God, Bucky—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face closer than you expected, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “What? Afraid you might enjoy it?”

You scoffed, your heart racing. “As if.”

You could practically feel your heart trying to escape your chest as Bucky inched closer, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something else there too—something warmer, more intent.

“Oh, so it wouldn’t bother you at all?” he teased, his smirk widening. “Not even a little kiss?”

“Not in a million years,” you shot back, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grin softening, “you’re shaking. Maybe it would bother you.”

“Bucky—”

But you never got to finish. And just then, he leaned forward and kissed your lips. Warm, masculine lips were pressed to yours. It wasn’t rushed or teasing—it was warm, gentle, and infuriatingly confident. Like he’d been waiting for this. Like he wasn’t the least bit surprised by how perfectly your lips fit together.

Your initial plan was to push him away—firmly, dramatically, maybe even with a good shove to his ridiculously broad chest—but your brain short-circuited the moment his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. Instead, you melted into him, your traitorous body leaning closer without permission.

It was supposed to be a simple, obligatory mistletoe kiss. But the way he kissed you made the world tilt, his lips moving with a deliberate tenderness that made your stomach somersault. He felt you quiver beneath his touch, but he wanted to comfort you—his tongue delved your mouth slowly and you parted your lips willingly and welcomed him. This was enough encouragement for Bucky; he sucked your tongue sensually, and you nibbled his lower lip.

Every kiss he gave felt like a slow unravelling and intense, as if he was savouring the act as much as the reaction it drew from you. Bucky’s fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a tender authority that left no room for hesitation. His thumb brushed over your cheek in a soothing rhythm, contrasting with the heat and urgency of his lips. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours—dark with desire, soft with something unspoken—before he leaned in again, claiming your mouth once more.

You let him in, your lips parting as his tongue slipped past, tangling with yours again in an unhurried, sensuous dance that sent shivers down your spine. He tilted his head, exploring every curve of your mouth, his kisses leaving a heated trail that set your skin ablaze. Your lips found their way to his jawline, pressing soft kisses along his stubble, the faint roughness amplifying the sensitivity of your own. When you returned to his lips, the hunger in his kiss mirrored your own as you teased his tongue with yours, your movements bold and enticing.

The shift in your energy didn’t go unnoticed. You felt him tense, his restraint hanging by a thread as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours. His hands gripped your waist, anchoring you in place as his kisses became hungrier, pulling quiet moans and ragged breaths from you. The sound of your pleasure seemed to fuel him, his control slipping further as he pressed closer, his arousal hard and insistent against your thigh, a tangible reminder of the tension thrumming between you. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a declaration, his desire spilling over and igniting something equally fierce in you.

When he pulled back it almost felt like he had to force himself to but he stayed close, his forehead almost brushing yours. His eyes searched your face, his smirk gone, replaced by something quieter, something more serious.

“Well,” he said softly, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it, “guess the mistletoe’s not so bad after all.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. “Have I told you I hate you?”

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, though his smirk was softer now, his thumb still brushing your cheek like he hadn’t realized he was still holding you.

You pushed his hand away—gently, because you were not going to think about how good it felt—and flopped back against the pillows, groaning into the quilt. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” he said with a chuckle, settling back onto his side of the bed. “Just a harmless little kiss. Totally meaningless.”

You peeked out from under the quilt to glare at him, but the way he was looking at you—soft, amused, and maybe a little too smug—made your pulse spike all over again.

“Goodnight, Barnes,” you muttered, burrowing back into the covers, determined to ignore the way your lips still tingled.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, his voice warm with amusement—and something else you didn’t want to think about.

The room fell quiet again, save for the faint crackle of the dying fire. But as you lay there, trying and failing to stop replaying the kiss in your head, you realized one thing: mistletoe was officially the most dangerous Christmas decoration of all time.

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @veronicapaula

[contact-guy]

I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...

content warning for drug use!

I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird

Text under the cut:

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."

"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"

[superblysubpar]

Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: A movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | my blog and this fic are 18+ Only, NSFW

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds

words: about 6,600

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay | mentions of masturbating for comfort/ease before sex | SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done / oral / fingering / steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 

His best friend was really fucking pretty. 

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 

He definitely said it out loud that time. 

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word. 

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind. 

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied. 

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation. 

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 

*if you liked this fic, the minor follow up is: Risky Business

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: yoon jeonghan

fake dating

'and if only you looked me in the eyes, you'd see the truth - i'm hopelessly in love with you'

jeonghan is cool about this. he goes through his checklist: suit? check. nice bouquet of flowers? check. car keys? check. his logic? gone since the moment he agreed to accompany you on this event as your 'boyfriend'. painkillers for a splitting headache you're going to have by the end of this night? check. his sanity? gone, long gone. in all honesty, jeonghan doesn't think he's ever been sane since the moment he realized his feelings for you. you know, the ones that are very fit for a 'boyfriend' type but don't really fit for a 'good friend' type. anyways, jeonghan is cool about this.

'i am insane,' he says out loud, looking at his reflection in the mirror. he looks good because of course he does, this event is important for you and he'd rather eat shit than fuck up anything for you. 'this is insane.'

he spends next twenty minutes on his way to your house by assuring himself that everything is going to go well. so what that just the thought of having his arm wrapped around your waist has him squealing like a five years old boy? that hearing you call him your boyfriend has goosebumps breaking out on his skin? that having an opportunity to take care of you in a more romantic, intimate way has him shaking a little? and so what that when you walk out looking gorgeous his heart stops for a second? he is cool. jeonghan is cool about this.

'you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,' you say, taking his hand when he opens the door for you. 'i'm so sorry for dragging you into this, hannie.'

'you owe me,' he jokes, throat tightening when you let him pull you closer. 'feel free to kick me in the balls if i say or do something wrong there.'

'noted!' you agree cheerily and god, he can just kiss you right here, right now. how is this not a crime for being so cute?! 'let's go then, my boyfriend.'

jeonghan's heart doesn't skip a beat at this because he is cool about this. and he tries his best to be there for you for the whole evening, turns on all of his charm to be liked by all the guests and poses prettily for all pics. your hand in his feels right, you leaning on his side for support feels right, him as your boyfriend feels right. you two fall into this 'fake couple' thing surprisingly easily, everything goes without a hitch - you glow, jeonghan stays right next to you and if anyone dares to tell him that it is not right, he'll commit murder.

'hannie, i never thought it'd be that easy with you!' you exclaim in his car, getting comfortable on the seat. your relaxed posture like you belong here, the way wind plays with your hair - jeonghan has trouble focusing on the road ahead. 'you are the perfect fake boyfriend, my friend.'

and that shouldn't hurt, right? only it does. a lot. jeonghan gulps, speeding through the streets. 'should i be offended that you thought i'd be anything less than perfect?' he asks, going to a familiar trope of jokes and laughs with you. 'you know me!'

'i know,' you agree, turning over to look at him properly. jeonghan notices how you frown a little and he points at the armrest. 'what?'

'painkillers are there,' he answers, watching you light up. 'you always forget to take them, silly. you know you get headaches from being exposed to loud voices for too long and yet i'm the one who always has your meds with me.'

you chuckle, grabbing water bottle from backseat. 'i know-i know! you are a life savior, hannie. really, you're so thoughtful, you'd make someone so happy one day.'

there it is. jeonghan thinks once, twice and- he's cool about this, remember? 'it can be you.' it's a red light, he stops and turns to you, calling out for all bravery he only has. 'that someone can be you. if you want.'

you don't say anything in the first tree minutes and jeonghan has half a mind to jump out of the car, but then you hiccup comically and bubble of tension bursts, making you both laugh. 'i-' you start and then shake your head in disbelief. 'wait, is this how am i getting my confession?'

jeonghan fears his heart will burst if he looks at you right now. instead, he grips the steering wheel tighter and mutters: 'you'll get a better confession if you tell me right now that you're going to accept it.'

'what a silly boy you are,' you say and it should be offensive, but you say it with so much fondness that he can't find this comment hurtful. 'of course i will accept it, hannie. you don't think i would've asked anyone else for this 'fake boyfriend' thing, right? i would've just gone alone.'

and it's -wonderful. sense of relief floods his system and hope bubbles in his stomach. 'i'm about to pull over and kiss you right now,' he announces, turning to look at you seriously. 'blink if you agree.'

you laugh and flowers in his chest bloom. 'i'm blinking twice just so you could be sure.'

jeonghan is very cool abut this situation, so he pulls over in the first corner and kisses you like a boyfriend would've kissed you. like he would've kissed you because he thinks title of 'boyfriend' is his for now and for ever.

a/n: squealing, kicking my feet. this is for all hannie stans, who are having hard time due to latest news. i'm here for you! 🫡 - nini

my other works are here

[magical-reid]

Wagers and Wishes

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor?GN!Reader (No use of Y/n) (They're in the Gryffindor common room but there's nothing that actually claims that the reader is a Gryffindor.)

Word Count: 900

Prompt: 6: “You owe me a kiss.”

Summary: In the Gryffindor common room, Fred teases you into fulfilling a bet by demanding a kiss after you miss a shot in Wizard's Chess. Despite your initial disdain, the kiss is unexpectedly enjoyable, leaving both of you caught in a moment where you make a genuine connection.

The Gryffindor common room was its usual lively self, filled with the crackling warmth of the fire and the buzz of students chatting, laughing, and occasionally yelling over a heated game of Wizard’s Chess. You, however, were not part of the cheerful crowd.

You were sitting on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at Fred Weasley, who was lounging across from you like he hadn’t just ruined your entire evening. His long legs stretched out, his head tilted back in mock relaxation, and a devilish grin plastered across his face.

“I cannot believe you,” you said, your voice cutting through the noise around you.

Fred opened one eye lazily, pretending to be confused. “What’d I do this time, love?”

“What’d I do?” you repeated, incredulous. “You know exactly what you did, Fred! You tricked me into that bet!”

He straightened slightly, sitting up just enough to toss you one of his signature grins. “Now, now. Tricked is a strong word. I’d say I gave you a fair challenge, and you were the one who said, If I miss, I’ll do whatever you say.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment. “I didn’t think I’d actually miss!”

“Well, you did,” Fred said, shrugging with mock sympathy. “And lucky for me, I already knew what I wanted.”

You glared at him, your cheeks flushing. “Of all the things you could’ve asked for, you chose this?”

“Obviously,” he said with a wink. “Why would I waste an opportunity like this? I’ve been waiting for ages to catch your attention.”

“Oh, so interrupting my evening to make a ridiculous demand was your best plan?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Fred leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixed you with a mischievous gaze. “Ridiculous demand? Love, I didn’t ask for the moon. I just asked for a kiss.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly masked it with a glare. “A kiss,” you said, your voice low and deadly, “is not exactly a small request, Weasley.”

“Sure it is!” he said brightly. “It’s just one little kiss. Won’t take more than a second. Two, tops. Unless you want to go for three—”

“Fred!” you hissed, your cheeks burning as a few nearby Gryffindors glanced your way, clearly trying to eavesdrop.

He laughed, leaning back again and throwing his arms over the back of his chair. “You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?”

You grabbed a cushion from the couch and lobbed it at him. He dodged easily, his grin widening. “That’s no way to treat the man you owe a kiss to,” he teased.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, crossing your arms again.

Fred stood up then, his tall frame towering over you as he walked around the table separating you. “Maybe,” he said, standing just in front of you. “But you’re not denying it.”

“Denying what?” you shot back, craning your neck to glare up at him.

“That you owe me a kiss,” he said, leaning down slightly, his face entirely too close for comfort—or maybe too close for your own sanity.

You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out. Instead, you found yourself standing abruptly, determined to put an end to this nonsense before Fred’s smug grin drove you completely mad.

“Fine,” you said sharply, making him blink in surprise.

“Fine?” he repeated, his brows shooting up.

“Fine,” you said again, stepping closer to him and poking a finger into his chest. “Let’s just get it over with so you can stop being so unbearably smug.”

Fred’s expression shifted, his surprise melting into something softer, something that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“Five seconds,” you warned, folding your arms. “You’ve got five seconds before I change my mind.”

Fred grinned, his usual cocky confidence tempered by a flicker of nervousness. “Alright, alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—I’m a fantastic kisser.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move as Fred stepped closer. The common room seemed to fade away, the warmth of the fire and the hum of voices replaced by the thundering of your heartbeat.

Fred paused just inches from you, his brown eyes searching yours. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your cheeks burning but your resolve firm.

And then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and entirely too perfect. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic; it was gentle, almost hesitant, as though he was savoring the moment. His hand brushed against your waist, steadying you, and you felt yourself melt into him despite your earlier protests.

When he pulled back, his grin returned, though it was softer now, more genuine. “You know,” he said, his voice teasing but warm, “I think you enjoyed that more than you’re letting on.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your cheeks flushed. “Don’t push your luck, Weasley.”

Fred chuckled, stepping back and running a hand through his messy hair. “Oh, I’ve already won the jackpot tonight. But I’ll try to behave. For now.”

You shook your head, unable to keep the smile from tugging at your lips. As you turned to sit back down, you called over your shoulder, “By the way, you still owe me for that missed target practice. You’re carrying my books to class tomorrow.”

Fred’s laughter followed you, rich and genuine. “Anything for you, love.”

And as you sank back into the couch, your heart still racing, you couldn’t help but think that Fred Weasley might just be the most infuriating—and wonderful—person you’d ever met.

[lordprettyflackotara]

till dawn || eyeless jack || the finale

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. this one’s a lil fluffy not gonna hold you guys. i’m so sad to see till dawn end :’) but all good things must come to an end eventually. i think down the line i will create a bonus chapter, but for now this is the end of till dawn. love you all. mwah!

bonus part is here

Knock knock knock!

A groan of annoyance left your lips, your senses resuming as you regained consciousness.

“Wake up fuckers! You owe us waffles!” Ben’s cheery voice flooded your ears, his voice echoing down the hallway outside of Jacks room. You sighed, rolling over and shoving Jack awake. A confused snore escaped his lips, his eye sockets finally opening.

“Huh?”

“Ben wants waffles,” You sighed, flopping back down onto your pillow. Unfortunately you both had lost one too many rounds of mario kart, resorting in a wager of cooking breakfast to end in Ben’s favor. Jack groaned. “Okay Ben give us five minutes!” He called. You rubbed your eyes, looking over at the window. The sun had just reached above the trees, the sunlight beams streaming across the room. A triumphant Ben continued down the hallway, whistling proudly.

“Holy fuck, what time is it?”

Jack chuckled, sitting up against the headboard.

“I told you we’d only have till dawn before someone showed up at our doorstep about breakfast.”

He was right, but converting to rising at the early hours and staying up late was exhausting. You rolled over lazily, your back turned to him. “Have none of them ever heard of sleep schedules?” You grumbled. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, your settlement into the mansion one that occurred with ease. Your charming personality and ability to cook won everyone over, even the proxies.

“We live in Slender’s mansion babe, we’re lucky the sun even rises here,” Jack replied, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your head. Slenderman’s reaction was a completely different story, the explanation of your existence the longest tale Jack had ever had to explain. Letting humans know about creeps existence was grounds for exile. It was forbidden to make spectacles out of themselves, even if the long term plan was for you to become a creep. (Which, it was not even an option to Jack.)

Becoming one, losing that grasp on sanity or facing an unfortunate fate of torture and death could never be planned though. Unless of course you were Jeff, then you knew how to create an arch nemesis. Jack would never want that for you, which he explained to Slender. Out of all of the mansions residents and outsiders, there was not another creature like Jack. A creature that went into an animalistic heat and needed to mate. Slender knew this and that led to his approval.

Another factor that Slender considered was that Jack was the oldest and wisest. If he was to entrust anyone to bring a human into the house, it was him.

Jack curled up beside you, your back pressing against his chest. “Sleepy this morning are we?” Jack asked teasingly, peppering kisses on your neck and shoulder. You chuckled, moving yourself closer to him. “I would’ve gotten better sleep if someone hadn’t kept me up all night,” You replied. A mischievous smile spread across Jacks lips, his hand slithering down to your hips.

“If it makes you feel any better i’m sure Clockwork didn’t get much sleep either,” Jack said, his lips refusing to stray far from your skin. His hand slithered further up your skin, slipping under your nightgown. You bit your bottom lip, Jacks fingertips lightly tracing your skin. “Thats gonna make a terrible first impression,” You sighed. Clockwork didn’t frequent at the mansion, leading to you never officially meeting her. Having her room be next door and hearing you beg for more? Not exactly the best first impression.

“There have been worse my love. When Jeff first came here Slender tried to make him a proxy. He tried to burn the mansion down,” Jack said, cupping your heart. Your thin panties blocked him from complete access to your cunt. Your breath was becoming shaky, your thighs opening more for him. He inhaled deeply, the smell of your arousal hitting his nostrils. “You just can’t get enough can you?” Jack teased. You groaned softly as he rubbed more harshly against the fabric.

“Of you? Never,” You replied, satisfied to feel Jack push your panties to the side. His lips attached themselves to your neck, his boner poking you from behind. You could feel him suck at your skin harshly, purposefully littering your neck with as many marks as possible. “I’m going to keep looking like a wounded puppy if my neck stays forever purple,” You chuckled, gasping as his fingers rubbed up and down your wet slick. You bit your bottom lip, two of his digits dipping into your cunt.

“My wounded puppy,” Jack snickered. He curled his fingers inside of you, your hand finding its way to his aching cock. He gasped as you palmed at the fabric of his basketball shorts, slipping your hand underneath the waistband. “Not sure if we’re doing to have time for this love,” Jack admitted, even if he didn’t want it to be true. You moaned in response, pumping his shaft as he finger fucked you. “It can be quick,” You offered. You bit the inside of your cheek, refraining from moaning louder.

“Please,” You whimpered, sealing your fate. Jack grinned, the two of you eagerly switching positions. Jacks back hit the soft mattress, licking his lips as you straddled him. Your panties had been discarded, his shorts and boxers pooling at his ankles. Jack was never one to not be in control of sex, even with you riding him. Sometimes he’d let you pretend you were in control, if he was feeling nice enough. But each time you got a bit out of line, Jack was quick to put you in your place. However, he couldn’t deny how ethereal you looked riding him.

You lowered yourself onto his cock, both of you exhaling in relief as he bottomed out inside of you. The shape of his cock bugled from your stomach as it always did, a subtle, very hot reminder that he was much bigger than you. Jacks hands found your hips, leaning forward to kiss you as he guided you. You groaned into his mouth as you rode his cock, his tip hitting your g spot. Playfully you grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed. Jack admired your breast bouncing as you chased your high, riding him like a wild animal.

Your body over time came to crave Jacks almost identically to the way he craved yours. (He couldn’t help but wonder if scientifically his cum had altered your hormones.) You smiled lovingly as you looked down at Jack, his facial expression one of contentment. The sun had risen higher, hitting his face at a flattering angle. It highlighted his sharp jawline and round nose. “What’s so funny?” Jack asked. You shook your head, continuing to hold your sinful noises in the best you could as you rode his cock. “You just look so handsome like this,” You complimented.

Jack blinked, “What, under you?”

You giggled, playfully slapping his shoulder. “No EJ, with the sun shining on your skin,” You replied, rolling your eyes. Jack leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your back. He completely and utterly adored you, your flattery and complimentary of him meaning the world. “You look even better, so beautiful taking my cock like this,” He huffed, snapping his hips upwards. You whined as he began to move faster, taking control. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, biting down on his skin to control your noises.

“Thats it, bite me as hard as you want love. Mark me,” Jack panted, his cock abusing your cervix. He was tempted to say hell to breakfast, flipping you over and fucking you senseless like the animal inside of him craved. But he knew you cared about his roommates opinion of you, even if to Jack he wouldn’t consider them friends five out of seven days of the week. Your teeth sank into Jacks shoulder, a subtle growl escaping his throat.

Something about seeing you so primal, but so desperate to keep quiet made him pound into you harder. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, a trail of saliva dripping down Jacks shoulder as your teeth clenched around his skin. You whimpered, your hands tangling themselves in his hair as you came on his cock. Your walls spasmed around his shaft, a deep grunt escaping his lips as he came inside of you.

You released his shoulder, grimacing down at the bite mark. “Holy fuck, I don’t know where that came from,” You panted. Neither of you had moved, Jacks gaze moving to your breast. “Neither do I, but it was pretty fucking hot,” He admitted, kissing your breast.

‘Waffles! Waffles! Waffles!’

The sound of Toby and Ben chanting from downstairs made you chuckle. Jack could hear them slamming their silverware down on the kitchen table, the sound making his ears twitch. You slowly slid off of you, whimpering as your walls squeezed the air. His cum slowly dripped down your cunt, the sight the most satisfying sight to Jack in the world. He laid back on the bed, propping himself up with his hands behind his head.

He admired you as you brushed your hair, throwing on clothes. You were so focused, Jacks staring going over your head. It wasn’t until you were ready, turning around to find Jack undressed and unbothered. “What are you doing? Ben’s gonna come through our radio any minute now if you don’t get dressed,” You say. Jack rose to his feet, bringing your back against his chest. He towered over you easily, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. You giggled, examining your stomach. “Do you think you’ll ever get me pregnant one of these days?” You asked curiously. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, his large hands resting on top of yours. “You do know that’s scientifically impossible right?” He asked. Yeah, maybe his cum was seeping into your hormones. Or maybe your brain.

“Yeah it’s still a nice thought though,” You shrug. Turning around you wrapped your arms around his neck, admiring him from below. Your eyes were dancing with curiosity. Tilting your head to the side a simple question left your tongue, “If I somehow did, you’d want to keep it right?”

Millions of thoughts soared through Jacks mind, ones mixed with the joy of parenthood and ones of terror. Would the fetus become a demon just like him? Or would it be as beautiful as you? What would it eat? Would raising a child in a mansion full of monsters from its worst nightmares be sustainable? But as he looked down at your puppy dog eyes, your orbs flickering back and forth as you awaited an answer.

Creeps had never procreated before, successfully anyways. It would be a first for all of them, especially Jack. He wanted to believe there was a piece of him that wasn’t an organ eating monster. One that could raise and love a child that was a mixture with the person he loved the most. He was almost sure he would’ve gotten you pregnant by now, with the amount of times he’d locked you into the mating press alone.

Truth was Jack would give you whatever you wanted, even if it was most likely scientifically impossible. “I want whatever you want my love,” He purred, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

Bang bang bang!

“EJ learn how to keep it in your pants and pour some batter in the waffle maker instead!” Ben called.

You giggled, Jack sighing as he pulled on his pants.

“And in the mean time we have Ben.”

“We most certainly do and that’s enough for me.”

[sunshinemayhem]

second chances - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 807

“Sirius, can we talk?” Remus makes an aborted motion at Sirius’s retreating back. James and Peter have already left, and transfiguration doesn't start for another thirty minutes. It’s the best time to have this conversation.

Sirius pauses, then raises an eyebrow, leaning against the door. His face is unreadable.

Remus nods. He’s grateful, at least, that Sirius hasn’t ignored him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unconsciously twisting the hem of his shirt.

Silence.

Remus takes a deep breath. This is harder than expected, but he promised himself he’d stop running away. He looks up, meeting Sirius’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I screwed up. I didn’t think of how I was hurting you. I.. I was afraid. I was so afraid of losing you –of losing what we had– that I chose to break my own heart before you could do it.” In the back of his head, he questions the Sorting Hat’s sanity for the millionth time.

Remus continues, “It’s not an excuse. I really am sorry.” He swallows. “I’m also sorry that I’m here now, putting you in this position, wanting to make up after I recklessly tore us apart.” He laughs, an ugly thing. “Merlin, I’m a selfish bastard, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” He’s long given up on eye contact. Remus stares at the ground, refusing to blink. He takes a deep breath.

“I.. I think I’m in love with you.” Remus thinks he hears a hitch in Sirius’s throat, but he can’t be sure. The next part is difficult, but it needs to be said. He owes it to the years of friendship between them.

His words come out faster. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I get it. Really, I do. I’m a pessimist, I’m flawed, I get in my own head. I’m trying, but I’m not perfect. And- And if you’d rather stay friends, I’ll be okay. Well, not okay but I’ll be fine-” Now it was Remus’s breath hitching. He blinks, then ducks his head, swiping his arm against his eyes. He’s humiliated himself enough.

There’s silence again, but Remus has finished his daily quota of courage. “I guess that’s all I had to say.” he shuffles his feet, lifts his head, looking anywhere but Sirius. He laughs once, bitter. “You know, I’d really appreciate a response.”

It’s quiet. Remus swallows. “I guess silence is an answer.” He screws his face up, willing himself not to cry. He really had fucked up, hadn’t he? He wonders if he’ll be okay.

“You-” He stops. He wants Sirius to leave. He starts again, “You’ll have to give me some time to deal with it, you understa-” Warm hands cup his face, and his words get stuck in his throat. They gently guide him to look forward, and Remus’s eyes widen as he realizes that Sirius –Sirius, who’d rather be humiliated publicly by Snape than cry– has puffy, red eyes. He still looks gorgeous, the git.

“Don’t cry, Moony.” he croaks, voice cracking after being silent for so long. Remus feels him gently cup his cheek, wiping away tears. Oh. He hadn’t realized that he was crying. He guesses willpower can only do so much. He feels exhausted, suddenly. 

Sirius is still talking, words tumbling over each other, frenetic. “You shouldn’t ever be sad. Never, never, never–” he cuts himself off. “You deserve to be happy. Always.”

Remus looks away, his face still being held hostage by the tenderness in Sirius’s movements. He can’t be comforted. What Sirius isn’t saying cuts like a sharp edge. He can feel acid at the back of his throat, and curses himself for expecting a different answer.

“Look at me,” Sirius says, his voice gentle. It rarely is, and Remus can’t fight it.

“I think I’m in love with you too.” Remus is caught off guard. There’s no way to misinterpret that. The voices in his head can’t contest it. 

“Don’t ever say that you’re not enough.” His voice is steady now. “I’m definitely more flawed than you are. I’m cruel, I’m superficial, I have too many trust issues.” Remus’s eyebrows draw together. He doesn’t agree, but his mouth has decided that that’s enough words for today. Sirius understands, like always. They’d always been like that, having conversations with glances, not needing words. In hindsight, that had become a bad thing when they’d stopped communicating. 

“Shh, let me finish. I’m sorry too. I didn’t know you were feeling like this. I noticed that you were acting differently, but I was too afraid that you were having second thoughts about me. I wanted to pretend everything was alright so that it didn’t end. ” Remus, again, wants to interrupt, but he’s stopped by Sirius’s earnest stare.

Sirius leans in. “I’m selfish too,” he whispers, “how about we try again?”

And just like that, Remus dares to hope.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 6

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Saturday Afternoon..

“This is so fucking stupid.” Joe mumbled to himself  as he drove down I-95. After another one of his text messages sent to Kiyana went unanswered. He was down bad. He just didn’t understand. Kiyana and Josh were divorced now, so there was nothing standing in the way of him and Kiyana being together now. The stupid part wasn’t even that he was driving to Pensacola because he could just play it off as wanting to see his parents, it’s that fact that this impromptu trip only took place because Kiyana was active on social media but not responding to his text messages.

6 hours down, 3 hours and 30 minutes to go.. 

“How did Josh take the news?” Samara asked as she and Kiyana walked around the mall looking for stores to go in. Samara narrowed her eyes at Kiyana when she didn't respond back.  “Kiyana Marie…” 

“I didn’t tell him yet.” Kiyana muttered as they walked into a store. She could feel the heat of Samara’s stare as she picked up a dress from the rack and held it up to her body. 

“That’s ugly, put it down.” Kiyana rolled her eyes and put the dress back. “Why the hell not?” Kiyana huffed as she started looking through another rack of dresses.

 “I just don’t wanna spring it on him Sam,” Kiyana huffed out. “We’ve only been divorced for like what? 2 weeks is that not too soon?” It took everything in Samara to not knock her best friend upside her head. 

“Key, y’all were married and he was sleeping with that girl, it’s no such thing as too soon when it comes to y’all.  You don’t owe him anything..”  Kiyana sucked her teeth, but she knew Samara was right, she didn’t owe Josh anything. “Fuck Josh.” 

“You’re right,” Kiyana muttered as her heart started to ache in her chest. She knew she needed to move on.. She had to move on for her own sanity. Josh had proven to her that he wasn’t the man she thought he was, it was time for her to move on. 

“I wasn’t expecting you back for another hour or two.” Josh stated as Kiyana walked into her living room. She eyed him, frowning her face up as he looked a little too comfortable in her living room, sprawled out on her couch. The boys weren’t used to him not being in the house yet, so he had been spending his days off at the house instead of his apartment. 

“I just wanted to pick a couple of things up from the mall.” She said and Josh nodded, his eyes peeking over at her bags, eyes narrowing as one of the names stuck out to him. 

“Damn, you got a date or something?” He jokingly asked, trying to peek into the lingerie store bag.  Now or never 

“Yeah,” She said, “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I need you to take the boys tonight.” 

“Wait.” Josh chuckled, sitting up and grabbing the remote, turning the t.v off. “What the fuck is you telling me right now?” He asked, feeling his stomach tighten and his heart start to pound faster. A date? Nah, he must’ve heard her wrong. 

“You’re not seriously mad right now are you?” She asked and he scoffed 

“What the fuck - of course i’m mad Kiyana. I’m your husband -” 

“Ex-husband!” She cut him off. “You’re my ex-husband who decided that he no longer wanted to be faithful. ” 

Suddenly, Josh couldn’t breathe. He drowned out whatever else Kiyana was saying and just stared at her pretty face. This can not be happening right now. The thought of Kiyana being with someone else made him sick to his stomach. “I’m gonna go.” He said, not looking at her as he put his shoes on and started walking towards the door. 

“What about the boys? Can you take them tonight?” Josh scoffed and shook his head. 

“Nah, not tonight.” 

“Josh!” She called out, leaping up from the couch and following him out of the house. “You being deadass?” 

“You think imma sit in the fucking house, filled with memories of us while you out on a date? You got me fucked up.” Kiyana threw her hands up and let out a long sigh. 

“So don’t stay here. Go to your place.”   Oh this bitch, Josh thought, knowing better than to call her that out loud. 

“Bye Kiyana.” Her jaw dropped open as she turned his back to her and stomped towards his car. 

“Fuck you Josh!” She yelled at him, not caring about the neighbors, flipping  him off as he got in his car and drove away. 

Joe let out a sigh as he pulled up to his destination. Making sure he had his phone and wallet he exited his car and walked up to the front door, knocking three times. 

“Oh shit, big Uce! Whatchu’ doing here?” Jon said as he dapped up his older cousin. 

Joe smiled. “Just decided to take a drive and clear my head.” Joe lied and Jon furrowed his eyebrows. 

“From Miami?” He asked, moving to the side and letting Joe into his home. 

“Nah, I've been in town for a couple days.” He lied again. “Wanted to see my folks.”  Joe stated as he sat on the couch with Jon. “Decided to come and see what my favorite cousin has been up to.” 

“Now I know ya’ ass is lying.” Jon laughed. “Whatchu’ really doing here Uce?"

“Alright, Alright.” Joe muttered, wiping his hands on his gray sweatpants. “I know Josh is your brother and all but fuck, i’m here to see Kiyana.” Trinity, who just entered the living room, shared a look with her husband. “No. Don’t look at eachother like that. I just want to make sure she’s good. She hasn’t been answering my text or phone calls.” 

“I mean, can you blame her?” Trinity spoke up. “I’m pretty sure she is only still in contact with Josh because of their kids. Look,” Trinity sighed, sitting down next to Joe. “Josh is already making it hard for her, she doesn’t need you popping up and making it worse.” 

“How can I make it worse by checking up on my friend Trinity?”

“Y’all are not friends anymore Joe. The second y’all had sex, y’all stopped being friends.”  Joe opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of the front door opening and slamming caught their attention. 

“A fuckin' date! Divorced for 2 weeks and she has a fucking date!” Josh ranted as he stomped into the living room, stopping short at the sight of Joe sitting on the couch. Josh immediately jumped to conclusions, Kiyana had a date and Joe just so happened to be in Pensacola. “Imma kill you.” Josh muttered before lunging towards Joe. 

Luckily, Jon was quick and grabbed Josh before he could land a punch.  “Of fuck off!” Joe snorted standing up. “It was six months ago and y’all are divorced now. Get over it.” 

“Get over it?! You’re going on a date with my wife and you’re telling me to get over it!”

Oh my god.” Trinity muttered, rolling her eyes. “She’s not going on a date with Joe dummy. And even if she was, she’s a single woman now. You want her to be single the rest of her life? It’s stupid as hell. She’s allowed to move on Josh.” Josh sucked his teeth and pushed Jon off of him. 

“Whatever.” He muttered, throwing a glare at Joe  before stomping his way back out of the house, slamming the door behind him. 

“STOP SLAMMING MY DAMN DOOR!” 

Kiyana stared at herself in her bedroom mirror. “You can do this.” She whispered as she took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress. She was beyond nervous for her date with Eli. This was her first date with another guy in twenty-three years. Her stomach was already in knots. 

 Walking into the living room, she rolled her eyes as Samara catcalled at her. After Josh’s little tantrum earlier, Kiyana called her best friend who was more than happy to spend the evening with her nephews. 

“Good, it looks easy to take off.” Kiyana rolled her eyes again with a chuckle. 

“I’m not having sex with him.” 

“Booo!” Samara threw a couch pillow at Kiyana. “Why the hell not? Just get it over with.” 

“Because it’s our first date Samara.” Kiyana laughed as she walked over to the bar cart to pour herself a shot of Hennessy. “I don’t want him to think I'm easy.” 

Before Samara could respond there was a knock on her front door, causing the both of them to look at each other in confusion. 

“I thought you said eight.” Samara said, looking at the clock on her phone. 

“He’s early,” Kiyana responded, before walking over to the font door and opening it, her heart rate picking up when she saw who was standing on the other side. 

“Joe?” Kiyana whispered, shocked that he was standing in front of her. 

“JOE?!” She heard Samara yell out. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Joe shrugged and placed his hands in the pockets of his gray sweats, “I came to see if you were alright. You haven’t been responding to my texts.” 

“I’ve been busy.” Was all Kiyana said and Joe narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Kiyana -”  He was cut off by the sound of someone’s car tires screeching to a stop in front of her house. 

“You can’t go on the date.” Joe called out as he exited his car and made his way up to the house, standing right next to Joe. Kiyana looked between the two men with wide eyes. 

“Excuse me?” She asked and by now Samara had made her way to the foyer and was watching the mess unfold. 

“Uh, Is everything okay Kiyana?”  Oh what the fuck Kiyana thought as Joe and Josh turned to look at Eli who was walking up to them holding a bouquet of red roses. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Joe and Josh asked at the same time. 

“Elijah, who the fuck are y’all?”  Kiyana turned to glare at Samara when she started laughing. 

“I can’t do this.” Kiyana muttered, as she started to rub her temples.  This could not be happening to her right now. What were the odds of all three of them showing up at the same time tonight?!

LMAO. I would probably just turn around and go back in the house if I was Kiyana 😭

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[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #6

Previous: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Angeal: No, Genesis, you spaghetti-noodle-spine-having-ass bitch.

Sephiroth: I identify as a tonberry *chases Cloud with a kitchen knife*

Zack: Ra Ra Rasputin *kicks Sephiroth over*

Genesis: Unhand me you cretin *alone, talking to no one*

Angeal: Zack just showed me a picture of the Grinch and said "hear me out"

Lazard: No, Sephiroth, you cannot have a human-sized cat bed in your office "for enrichment"

Cloud: Parkour time *crashes through the air vents*

Sephiroth: I'm the biggest lesbian ally in this department, actually.

Angeal: For the sake of my sanity I'm gonna pretend I didn't just see Zack twerking to One Winged Angel.

Luxiere: I would commit unspeakable atrocities for a crumb of Zack's attention.

Lazard: That stripper pole better be gone when I get back or so help me, Genesis, I will return you to the goddess.

Sephiroth: *does a single pump of sore throat spray* This is enough for sustenance for the day.

Kunsel: Care for a deep-fried cigarette?

Angeal: You look like an AI-generated twink.

Sephiroth: I've grown so tired of Genesis's voice that we now communicate solely through interpretive dance.

Lazard, over the speakers: Whoever heated fish in the break room microwave, please come by my office so I can break your knees.

Zack: Aww, I forgot to feed the Roomba :(

Genesis: I don't know why me and Angeal are being judged. Simulating a birth with a watermelon is a perfectly normal activity for two people.

Kunsel: Hopefully this office party won't end in accidental weed use.

Angeal: WHY IS THERE A FAMILY OF RACCOONS IN THE TRAINING ROOM?

Genesis: I noticed some homosexual subtext in your screams, do you want to talk about that?

Angeal: *sniff sniff* Ooh~ who's barbecuing? OH MY GOD IT'S AN ELECTRIC FIRE.

Roche: Every time I think about chopping my hair short I think "Sephiroth wouldn't want this for me" and the feeling is gone.

Genesis: I made a friend *drags in a skeleton with a Sephiroth wig*

Cloud: *points at Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth* Pure of heart, dumb of ass, big of tit.

Lazard: I told Zack to use Excel and he started sobbing.

Angeal: WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST SEASONING YOUR GROUND BEEF?

Sephiroth: It's extremely rude to ask someone why they're eating a salad bowl of udon at 8 AM. Mind your business, Zack.

Cloud: Genesis likes Loveless so much because the title resonates with his love life.

Zack: You keep your anxiety pills in a takeaway to-go box? Dude that's so fancy.

Lazard: Why is Sephiroth the only one wearing a shirt??

Angeal: Common sense has chased Zack all his life but he wears wheelies so he's faster

Sephiroth: I personally don't use the peace sign because I haven't had a day of peace since I was 12.

Kunsel: I'm never going out in public with Zack again. A child's balloon popped when it went near his hair.

Angeal: No I'm not giving you an aspirin. Last time I gave you one you crushed it and snorted it like cocaine.

Lazard: An overwhelming majority of you peaked in kindergarten.

Sephiroth: Zack, I'm becoming increasingly concerned by the amount of potatoes in your pants right now.

Zack: This year I want an A/B/O themed birthday party.

Sephiroth: Please don't commit tax fraud, Genesis. You won't thrive in prison.

Genesis: Does anyone have an extra ramen packet to give Sephiroth? The 64 he consumed this morning weren't enough.

Roche: Commander Rhapsodos and his emo fringe is our culture.

Zack: I'm at my fucking limit! I'm about to eat a vegetable!

Genesis: He's a son of a bitch Sephiroth: That implies he has a mother, so I don't see how that's an insult.

Zack: Fuck around and find out *said with a chunk of Genesis' red coat hanging from his pocket*

Cloud: Does anyone have an extra brain cell? I lost my remaining one when Genesis spoke to me this morning.

Sephiroth: Damn.

Kunsel: Zack owes me so much money that if he sold his box of random shit he stole from Angeal, he still couldn't pay me back.

Angeal: Why are you guys playing Queen's Blood in the closet? is this a metaphor?

Genesis: Have you prayed to your Sephiroth cardboard cutout yet today?

Sephiroth: Alert me once Rufus Shinra arrives so that I may greet him adequately *said while building a pipe bomb*

Lazard: It's all fun and games until the timeout cage that I ordered online arrives.

Genesis: I will atone for my sins by becoming a nuisance to the environment.

Cloud: If Zack were a scented candle he'd smell like ADHD and crayons.

Sephiroth, standing on a table: DO NOT. EAT. THE CHEESECAKE. IN THE FRIDGE. It's mine.

Angeal: *with a bucket while it's raining hale* Free ice baby.

Zack: I finally have enough gil to buy a sixteen bouncy castles.

Genesis: Being overcome with the desire to eat pasta and call your mother at 2 AM and wondering if you're having a mental breakdown or are possessed by Sephiroth.

Lazard: I can't fire any of you, but I'm about to start setting things on fire.

[skay-ali]

the witch's revenge

I have a reader draft with a demon possessing her, the idea is that she basically made a deal to continue living, where she would help the demon with his evil plans in exchange for staying alive. Maybe get revenge on his family, showing them that he was better now. Jennifer's body

You had everything figured out.

Every little step.

You had many resources, not only monetary resources from your followers and your sponsor, but also the necessary influence.

Many people from the underworld supporting you.

It was assumed that with your ritual, Halloween, when a red moon would appear, would be your great opportunity.

At last you would have what your heart longed for most, the same wish that you asked the shooting stars, the one that you recited when you made incantations and spells since you were a small and inexperienced witch.

The day you gathered enough evil from the lowest places, you turned many cities guarded by heroes upside down.

At midnight when everything went dark, and the evil of each person floated towards your new scepter.

The song that you recited, oh the great song that you strove to memorize.

Everything was fine in a moment, the portal would have opened and soon you could make a pact, to save your mother.

Until it wasn't anymore, some supers appeared, not even the barrier of villains that surrounded you could contain them.

It was unfair, you weren't hurting anyone, you were saving them from their evils in exchange for benefiting you.

Thanks to you, many popular villains calmed down, your spells made them more docile.

Why didn't they let you have what you always wanted?

You were angry, upset, you wanted them to leave right then and there.

Your pain worsened when balls of purple energy were directed towards where you were, and a woman with her glowing fists also tried to hit you.

They wanted to keep you, they wanted to destroy your only source of happiness.

Maybe it was the evil that you were handling that took over you, or all the anger that you contained, but now... now you would let him govern you.

You let your scepter expel a great shadow so that the heroes would be lost.

A lot of lightning bolts followed, in all directions.

That would keep them a little busy, while they try to avoid them.

But that was not enough, you built with your magic and the things that surrounded you into monsters that would attack them.

"OH I'm sorry but you're not invited to the party" you mock them when you were able to hold them back.

You watched as the entire sky took on a red color.

"If he opens the portal he will endanger the world, you shouldn't play with demonic forces!"

"I'm sorry I don't think I heard you demon girl, I'm trying to make one of yours my pet" you ignored the caped girl laughing at her.

You feel more and more the adrenaline of hating your body. Right on cue, more heroes appeared but this time they looked like young adults.

With them the other heroes were able to control your warriors, and also attack you. Some dates tried to get through you but nothing you couldn't avoid.

"Damn, I think they have me" you raised both your hands in surrender.

You saw how they let their guard down for a moment.

"Well that would be like that, if they defeated my true warriors" you smiled evilly.

At that moment, many other villains noticed that they owed you some favors and wanted to compensate them by fighting for you. With them watching your back, you focused on your last steps to see your mother again.

You took out all the souls of the witches you killed, they were offerings to the demon that had your mother.

You knew that they could, in a good mood, take revenge on the witches who mocked him and got away with it, having them as his servants would brighten his day.

Like an angry dog ​​receiving a treat to have it on your side.

But other annoying bugs had to appear just when you put the souls inside the portal.

This was already the height of your patience, your sanity could no longer continue as before, all your madness came out.

You began to attack with your scepter directly at each person who approached you. mercilessly, you had previously been lenient about the idea of ​​harming someone.

But you couldn't afford that luxury anymore, not when your plan was in danger of being destroyed.

You reached your turning point. Your body is starting to get tired, time was running out.

With everything you had you continued with your ritual.

Even if blood began to slide down your nose and red tears that burned in your eyes spilled.

But a big blow knocked you out, making you lose your concentration and sending you to the floor, sending your scepter flying away.

As soon as you opened your face you saw that the blood moon began to disappear.

You crawled, gathering all your strength, even if your body hurt, even if the impact of the blow was still present in your body, you continued.

Reciting weak spells to defend yourself. When you reached your precious scepter without strength, you no longer felt power within it.

"Nooo" it was over with all the fights you had and because of the ritual. When you saw the portal, you noticed that it had already disappeared, along with your sacrifice and the opportunity to have your mother back.

"NONONO BECAUSE YOU DON'T ANSWER" you shook your scepter many times desperate for it to work again, you could use a time spell, stop going back, so that the blood moon would appear again, of course that would shorten your life and you would surely be punished but no longer you cared "nooo let go of me" you struggled with the hands that held you. No matter how much you kicked, scratched, bit and screamed you couldn't keep them away. You cried... you cried very loudly, as if something was hurting you deeply, as if you had been stabbed very hard, and you screamed at the top of your lungs, until you were hoarse. You did it until your eyes became blurry, and your energy was gone, you passed out.

Your dream, your desire, seems finished... there was no longer anything that moved you, you give up, you let the world finish you once and for all... as it should always have been.

You woke up alone in an unknown room, lacking natural light, only artificial light from the spotlights that illuminated an annoying white light. everything was white and colorless, devoid of life.

Your clothes were too, you didn't wonder how you had them, you let things flow... you wouldn't worry about anything anymore... you wouldn't do anything anymore... you would just exist.

You cried a lot without stopping, not that you wanted to, but the sadness that was in your heart would not go away.

With your magic you swallowed some things, a book, a record player, some depressing music records, cherry liquor and some cigarillos. With those things you waited patiently.

Someone would appreciate it, those cameras in your room were a sign, next to the black window where you couldn't make out what was behind.

You blew smoke into your mouth, elegantly holding the cigarette in your fingers and looking at the white window trying to find something in it.

Your idea was actually to terrify or make the hair stand on end of whoever was looking at you.

You played with your hair from time to time, it's a real shame that it returned to its current color, you could use magic to change it but you didn't feel up to it.

A lot of black locks, aghh you hated the color, your aunts always said that it was your father's color and that you had many of his traits, although you couldn't change those traits much because of how annoying and complex it was, the hair was one.

Everything was boring, until a girl enters your room, she sat in one of the chairs that was at a table.

And he started to question you, you didn't answer him, you just paid attention to your cigarette.

That is until she had the audacity to get into your brain, you wouldn't let her get away with that, no one messes with your head, except you.

You let him examine whatever he wanted. a small spell when she committed a vast oversight, to make her forget what she saw and tell her other things, something terrifying and traumatizing, although you did not take pity so much and made her feel your same sadness, you were not a villain to traumatize a teenager for life .

Her tears were present, you just watched her cry with your cigarette in her lips, trying not to do the same.

But you failed, you also shed tears with the girl.

The next ones who tried the same thing were also unsuccessful.

until you felt a presence that you distinguished well.

“hello demon girl see you again” you smiled.

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch1

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation

a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee

wc: 2.2k

“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”

When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.

Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”

Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.

You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.

But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.

“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.

“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.

“No way in hell,” You say quickly.

“Please!”

“No,”

“Pleaseee!”

You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.

“…you owe me one,”

You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.

For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.

You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.

The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?

You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.

Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.

You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.

“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”

You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.

“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.

“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.

“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.

“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.

“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.

“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…

“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.

“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.

“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”

“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”

Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.

“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.

“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.

“it’s you, bitch!”

“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”

you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.

“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-

“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.

theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.

then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.

“wait, what’s-“

“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.

“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.

the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.

“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.

once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.

“So impatient, babe,” He grins.

“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.

You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.

“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.

It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.

“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.

“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.

You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.

You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.

“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.

He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.

“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.

Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.

He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.

Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.

[ad0rechuu]

ᝰ MY OH MY. ━━ (000) prologue: the next bet

WORD COUNT. 837

WARNINGS. swearing ofc! mentions of alcohol/weed, violence, crying and yn isn’t being respected

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

POUNDING MUSIC AND FLASHING LIGHTS.

It wasn’t impressive at all. It was just another frat party on another Friday night with the same people that were drinking their worries away in the same massive frat house, celebrating the weekend.

Sunwoo sighed as he looked around the dance floor, earning a couple of confused looks when they noticed his uncharacteristically annoyed expression. He was never one to be a party pooper, often ending up the main entertainment after a few too many drinks. But this time, alcohol wasn’t close to crossing his mind.

He threw his cup in his friend's hand as soon as he heard the infuriating news by two fratbros in passing.

No matter how many times he scanned the room for the outfit you so graciously showed off to him on your way to the party, you were absolutely nowhere to be seen. Panic settled in as he maneuvered his way between wasted people to get to the stairs.

His hands rested on his knees after he reached the top, catching his breath while still frantically looking around.

In the corner of his eye he saw the back of a familiar figure going around the corner at the very end of the long hallway. Sunwoo quickly shot up as he followed you, finally finding you in front of an open door to a random room.

“Where the hell—” He started with a loud voice the moment he met your eyes.

You shushed him and quickly grabbed the front his shirt, pulling him closer and out of sight of whoever was inside of the room.

When you were sure he wasn’t going to attract any unwanted attention, you leaned closer to the door frame. Sunwoo followed you actions and leaned over your shoulder.

“Dude! I can’t believe you got her to date you! Isn’t she really cold?” Someone laughed, the smell of cheap weed hitting you two.

A sting pierced your already rapidly beating heart when you heard the second voice.

“Actually she pretty sweet.” He responded. “But when am I getting my money? All I had to do was ask her out and kiss her right?”

Sunwoo felt his cheeks heat up out of anger at their words.

The familiar faces laughed again as your so-called ‘boyfriend’ made a money sign with his free hand.

Someone else piped up, “You would get 64000 won for the bet right? Let me up the scale!”

“What are you thinking?” Yeonjun took a sip of his beer and leaned forward, intrigued by his friend's suggestion.

Even just that simple action made your blood boil. You felt Sunwoo try to get passed you, probably to yell at them. But you kept him in place with a stern look. No matter how much it might hurt, you had to hear what the next bet was going to be.

For your own sanity.

“Make Yn fall in love with you! If you can get her to say ‘I love you’ to you first, before the school year ends, I’ll give you 128010 won plus the 64000 won he owes you.” His friend stuck out his hand in Yeonjun's direction, smirking. “That is if you can actually do it.”

Yeonjun’s eyes sparkled with a competitiveness that you used to think was love as he calculated the numbers in his head. “That’s like 150 dollars! I’ll take that bet!”

“She already likes me and I have plenty of time, this will be piece of cake! Say goodbye to your money, Tae!” He cackled, unknowingly breaking your already fragile heart.

Not being able to bear hearing anymore of their crude words about you, you stormed off, leaving a boiling Sunwoo standing there, stunned at their behavior.

Sunwoo was never a fighter. The few times he did get in fights, he was black out drunk and got his ass handed to him nearly right away. But after seeing your expression, he wanted nothing more than to go inside of that room and beat his so-called ‘friend’ to a pulp. His adrenaline told him he could do it.

But he didn’t. He knew you wouldn’t want that. And instead of more worries, you just needed him to be there for you. So he quickly followed you down stairs.

When you both reached the ground floor, he had finally caught up with you. He grabbed your hand to stop you in your tracks and gently turned you to him. Heavy black mascara stained your face and your cheeks were hot from emotion as you avoided his worried eyes.

He could feel his own heart break just at the mere sight of you like this.

Forcing himself to give you a small smile, he held your hand in his and led you out of the big, crowded house, not caring about anybody but you in the moment.

Although Sunwoo didn’t get to beat Yeonjun up as he wished, he was sure that you two would get revenge on the campus's pretty boy for what he did to you.

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NOTES. (make sure to check out the previous chapter for the profiles if u haven’t already) yeonjun and txt are assholes i’m sorry but there is always more than meets the eye (or is there? 🤨) also sunwoo the yn protect lol BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave lots of feedback i really need it esp on the written chapters and it keeps me motivated (not just with some with all writers)

TAGLIST. @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @seonghwaddict @starryunho @yuyusuyu @kodzumo @felixsramen @aapplepii @juhakutie @gyumibear @alixnsuperstxr @atinyinateezverse @nyukyujs @yunho-mp3 @blueresides @shakalakaboomboo @haechology @ahnneyong @atinycafe @i-luvsang @nasangel

[tennessoui]

kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice  Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful.  I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them 

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other.  Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation  of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing. 

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3  so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin. 

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 406: Secret Menu Hero Name

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all “NOT EVEN DEATH ITSELF CAN STOP ME!!!” and saved All Might so easily and spectacularly that it immediately became clear why Horikoshi had to keep him on ice for fourteen months straight. All Might was all “thanks for the assist Bakugou-shounen, now please allow me to show my gratitude by lending you my SWEETASS ROBOT ARM that nearly gave makeste a fucking heart attack when she saw it, HOLY SHIT.” Kacchan was all “I JUST LIKE TO SMILE, SMILING’S MY FAVORITE” and he smiled the BIGGEST EVER and indeed has literally not STOPPED smiling ever since, and my heart is warm. <3333

Today on BnHA: A jubilant menace stirs in the air. A chill runs down Kid For One’s spine. A sudden crash behind him. He whirls around, only to be met with the face of Chaos itself in all its raucous glory. The boy is relentless. His pursuit, unending. His blows, unyielding. And his mirth, as perplexing as it is petrifying. What the fuck. Why won’t he stop laughing. He’s laughing. Horikoshi is laughing. The readers are all laughing. You’re laughing. Kid For One is shitting his pants while this cackling sleep paralysis demon gleefully chips away at his frail sanity, one frenetic BOOM at a time. And you’re laughing. :|

doo de doo, don’t mind me, just gonna scroll past the first couple pages of this chapter so I don’t get spoiled for the outcomes of all the other mini-battles I haven’t finished catching up with yet :’)

though I already caught a glimpse of a bloodied-up Shouji before I realized what was happening, so unfortunately that particular cat is now out of the bag. can’t believe the suspense of whether or not Shouji would survive his fight is now completely ruined for me. can you even imagine how tense it would have been wondering whether or not Shouji would get killed off. ...and you know what, even as I type this, I’m realizing that this is really not the type of sarcasm that translates very well across the internet, lol. and even if it did, it could just as easily come across as “WOW, MAKESTE REALLY DOESN’T CARE ABOUT SHOUJI AT ALL, HUH” sarcasm, rather than the “it’s not that serious guys, it’s just that there’s no possible way Horikoshi could ever convince me that he was actually going to kill off one of the kids” sarcasm it was intended as! so yeah. you know what, I’m just going to shut up about all this now and move on. glad he’s okay though

so now back to the Main Character Battlefield, where Kacchan is currently having way too good of a time for someone who actually WAS killed off by Horikoshi fairly recently

All Might is all “he’s so fast!” and yeah he really is lol. ngl, I had a fair amount of Kacchan endgame theory stuff riding on his ability to meaningfully upgrade his speed, so all of this is very satisfying to hear! and to be fair, I do wonder how much of it is owed to the boost from Gearshift as opposed to Katsuki’s own newly acquired exploding bloodsweat. but I’d like to think that even without GS he’s still incredibly fucking fast at this point. like easily still a Top 3 BnHA Speedy Boi

well shit lol now Edgeshot is reminding everyone that even prior to his “death”, Kacchan was briefly able to surpass Tomura’s speed with his upgrade

well there you have it! so yeah, that basically confirms he’s currently even faster than All Might was at his peak. just a homicidal little comet casually zipping around all of these other slowpokes

lol

just for the record, I still have no clue how Kacchan’s bizarre new upgrade actually works, but I am fairly certain that sweat is NOT SUPPOSED TO EVER DO THAT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

like seriously though Kacchan, doesn’t this hurt? like at all?

(ETA: hahahaha. ouch.)

well whatever!! if Tomura was able to bypass Erasure’s loopholes with all of his hand nonsense, then Kacchan’s sweat has my permission to zoom around inside his bloodstream and randomly explode inside him to somehow make him faster without actually harming him in any way, AND THAT’S FINE. the time for nitpicking ended roughly around the same time that a soft-spoken paracord man dove inside of him to forcefully restart his organs

LOL

“DON’T GET ME WRONG, I COULD EASILY KILL HIM ANY TIME I WANT! I JUST DON’T FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT RIGHT NOW, OKAY. THAT’S DEFINITELY WHAT IT IS, AND IT’S DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE HE JUST EXPLODED ME SO HARD THAT I SAW THE FOURTH DIMENSION”

meanwhile back in Dekutown it looks like Tomura has maybe finally broken free of his impromptu Blackwhip toddler leash

whatever man. how are you still not redeemed yet since I last saw you in chapter 369. you had like an entire year’s worth of chapters. get it together already!!

lol what in the actual fuck is “instadeath”

is this just a Funny Ha Ha fanscan way of referring to Decay?? or were there some additional Tomura quirk developments that I missed out on which were somehow even wilder than the infinityhands

Deku keeps saying that he’s for serious REALLY going to run out of Gearshifts now, but I don’t fucking believe a word this kid says tbh

it will be the “final one” once the fight is finally over, and not a moment sooner. if I know anything about Deku, which I do. and Gearshift, which to be fair I really don’t

-- oh, fuck yeah

what the hell is up with that swirly hand shit though, Kid For One. you better knock that off right now

OH MY GOD THIS FUCKING GUY FOR REAL THOUGH!!

:/ well at least this time you’re being ignored because he’s actually scared shitless of you. shh. don’t tell anyone

holy shit this chapter keeps hitting me with these random bits of information Destiel meme-style and it’s the wildest fucking thing

so while I did obviously clue in to the fact that something must have gone down in the Endeavor+Hawks+Toko+Jirou VS AFO battle, on account of AFO very clearly not being in Jakku anymore, I have not yet caught up to that part of the series, so I don’t actually know anyone’s status! hopefully they’re all alive and relatively unmaimed! although they very clearly failed at their One Job, but oh well

that being said, “AS STRONG AS DARK SHADOW” looooooool omg. DS what did you do. my boy left an impression. I cannot wait to read that, oh goodness

KFO YOU LITTLE TWERP, DIDN’T ANYONE EVER TELL YOU YOU SHOULDN’T LOOK DOWN ON OTHER PEOPLE OR ELSE YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO SEE YOUR OWN WEAKNESSES

seems like someone ought to have told you that. could have spared you a lot of pain and agitation to come. more’s the pity

hee hee hee

hello there

so now my feral wolfchild is having a big internal monologue about how he’s finally mastered his new superquirk through the power of being an unrepentant masochist

fsdkfj. listen up Kid For One, he may be “nothing but a pebble”, but I promise you, if you could fucking hear this kid’s thought processes right now, you would already be halfway across the planet. living out the rest of your days in hiding while checking underneath your bed every night to make sure this little hobgoblin isn’t secretly waiting there to pounce at you

FSDLKFJSLDKJFL SDFLKWJEFLKWLF WLKJFLDKS

(ETA: you guys will never believe this but I found a sneak peak of the as-yet-unreleased soundtrack which will accompany this scene in season seven of the anime! SPOILER ALERT!!!)

ACTUAL GHOUL. I AM ACTUALLY SCREAMING. MY SON HAS BECOME GENUINE NIGHTMARE FUEL

THIS IS MY FAVORITE, FAVORITE, FAVORITE THING EVER YOU GUYS. HOLY SHIT. I CAN’T BREATHE OMFG

OUCH. HA! HAHA.

(ETA: once again, I know this sounds highly improbable, but I actually found some 100% authentic footage from the anime version of this scene! I’m telling ya. once this hits the airwaves minds are gonna be blown.)

HE IS THE “WHO” WHEN YOU CALL “WHO’S THERE”!!! HE IS THE WIND BLOWING THROUGH YOUR HAIR

you have to admit though, this really is the exact type of behavior you’d expect from someone who literally just got spat back out from the pits of hell

oh my god hold up what is this sudden tonal whiplash?

you guys I seriously had to sit back and take a deep breath and calm myself down for a moment, because Final Form Katsuki is just So Much. like actually just THE MOST. that I had to physically force myself to slow down and take these next few panels seriously and resist the urge to keep on making jokes about how CLEARLY EVEN HIS PARENTS ARE TERRIFIED. LOOK AT THEM. MASARU IS SOBBING AND MITSUKI’S HAND IS TREMBLING. IN THE WORLD’S MOST EPIC TWIST, AFO GOES DOWN ONLY TO BE REPLACED BY KACCHAN HIMSELF AS THE FINAL VILLAIN!!!

but yeah I had to stop and calm down from all of that because, oh. Masaru has his head in his hands. and Mitsuki’s trying to get him to turn around, but her hand really is shaking though. and it just really hit me that the two of them have spent the last... thirty minutes...?? swept up in the highs and lows of almost losing their child, and then getting him back, and then watching him be so strong and so good and SAVING ALL MIGHT and RESTORING EVERYONE’S HOPES AND DREAMS. and they must be so incredibly proud, but at the same time he’s still caught up in this fight, and the fight is still not over, and they know the tide could still turn again at any moment. and I can’t even imagine what that must be like. especially with them having already watched their son die once today

oh my god Horikoshi you cannot freaking do this to me!

goddammit. and now I’m all caught up in my Bakufam feels. DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI, THE MITSUKI TEARS WERE THE LOWEST OF BLOWS

and now Kid For One is once again whining about this “pebble” who’s pissing him off even worse than All Might. you love to see it!

OH MY GOD?!?!

oh my lord?! is it finally happening?? ARE WE FINALLY GETTING THAT SWEET, SWEET CONTEXT AT LONG LAST? WILL A MAN FINALLY HAVE A NAME??

-- Horikoshi I swear to god

YEAH NO SHIT. NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT, THEY DO KIND OF BEAR A RESEMBLANCE. YOU KNOW, IF YOU SQUINT

okay, color me intrigued. so that is indeed why AFO was crying when we previously saw this flashback! this is actually so interesting to me, because it’s literally the one and only time he’s ever shown real emotion outside of generic battle-related stuff (anger, shock, surprise, etc.)

so he says Kacchan pisses him off because he looks like Two. and every time he gets reminded of Two, he remembers how his brother died. and, I guess, made him feel sad for the first and probably last time ever???

holy shit, Kacchan was right

he really is AFO’s Final Boss. like even more than he realized

*~*~*OH MY GOD*~*~*

HOLY SHIT YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!

OFA DOS PARTIAL NAME REVEAL AT LONG LAST!! FULL NAME REVEAL AND ADDITIONAL FLASHBACKS TO FOLLOW NEXT WEEK...?? YES? MAYBE? PLEASE????

I swear to god, if Horikoshi deliberately kept Two’s quirk and name Top Secret for YEARS only for them BOTH to wind up NOT ACTUALLY BEING REMOTELY SPOILERY OR WORTH ANY KIND OF SUSPENSEFUL BUILD-UP IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER, I will. just sit here and be puzzled, I guess. lol. “sometimes I just like to fuck with people like that.” OKAY?? WELL GOOD JOB, THEN??

“Kacchan of the Bakugous” was so out of left field and I am grinning so, so hard right now. BAKUGOU NO KACCHAN. that’s officially the second Heroes Rising reference in as many chapters! sure feels like A Certain Mangaka is building up to a Certain Reveal about SOMEBODY maybe possibly still having SOMETHING which will remain unnamed for now, but which rhymes with “done for mall”! and that’s all I’m gonna say about that

except that it’s not, because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also have fifteen other entirely different emotions about him proudly introducing himself to AFO not as Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, but as someone even more powerful. “BEHOLD, it is none other than I... Kacchan!!! ( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و lolo get fucked you big dumb fart”

heh. but seriously. just me sitting here basking in the fact that he uses the name Deku gave him. the fact that he decides not to go with his formidable, much-agonized-over hero name in this one moment, but instead chooses to use a far more terrifying moniker, even if AFO doesn’t realize the significance. because Dynamight is a hero, yes. one of the very greatest and strongest!

but Kacchan? Kacchan is the boy with a dream. Kacchan is the boisterous child laughing at the danger, unafraid of the challenge. smiling in the face of the tallest wall. Deku’s motherfucking Image of Victory. hahahahaha. ouch

anyway so yeah! what a chapter. this may have actually derailed me because now my brain just wants to write a bunch of character metas even though I STILL HAVE THIRTY MORE CHAPTERS TO READ. and not to mention I still have to actually post all of them as well lol. but whatever! we’ll make it work. long live Kacchan of the Bakugous, and may his Secret Menu Hero Name always strike fear in the hearts of his enemies

[pastel-rights]

Pick rooms that belong to your current obsession (media) and put your friends in them

Hell.

... juuuuuuuust kidding. /ref

Unfortunately, I don't have just one obsession, I have a group which I rotate in my brain like the lego man in the tumbler, so... I'm sending everyone to their new homes, and if you're unhappy with where you stand, sorry, I do make the rules actually! Who's ready to see their new home?

Let's see... who's first?

...

Issy. Issy! You're first! I'm sending you to... the Hadal Blacksite! Go my Issy, be free, commit crimes, and fight with Sebastian. He owes me a gummylight I WANT it.

You can have Idol's room, as a courtesy even. Free food, fuck the searchlights, nice performances, a tooooooon of stuffed animals, honestly anything comforting you can think of, Idol 's room has it. Pretty neat to be honest.

Only thing is she sleeps on a mattress on the floor but if you can get past that part? 10/10 room.

Satoru? Do I have to? Can't I send him to hell? Pretty please?

No?

Damn. Damn! Ugh, fine uhm. Shit where DO I put his ass? I can't send him to hell, I can't leave him homeless, that just makes ME the asshole.

I'll put him innnnnnnnnnnnnn. theeeee. Hotel from the Inn-Sanity. Yeah! go. go fuck up the priest for me, sweetheart! the wedding can go back on once I'm undoomed by the inn-sanity's narrative. /ref /silly

Saturday can have the room from the first Amanda the Adventurer! Fucking love that game, love myself a good haunted television adventurer. Go, solve the mysteries in my death tapes!

Navi, I'm sending you to into the second Amanda the Adventurer game. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out all the secrets in that game before the monsters find you, no? Teehee. (a threat)

Try not to die too soon, m'kay? /j

Fifi... hmph. I don't know where I can possibly send you without you causing an issue to be honest. So, choose an analog horror from this book, whatever fills your cannibalistic heart with the most bloody joy.

Don't tell me which one you choose though. I don't need to know.

Originally, I was going to give you Lighter's room, but since you want to act like you're a goddamn stalker and serial killer, Taegan Mariah Collins, you can have Ronin's room. Goddamn antichrist actin' ass.

I got a short fuse for fools, don't get arrogant. /lyr

Yuu is going to the murder house hehehehehehehe.

Four... honestly, I can just send you to Octavinelle and call it a day, because you are an eel and whatnot. Eels love water and shit, right?

...

Actually, I think I'll send you to Fontaine, it's probably a nice, better place, more room for you to swim around, more people worthy of being squeezed, it's a pretty sweet deal, no?

Maybe we can go track down some assholes together. Just, don't mind me setting myself on fire. C4 Hu Tao does things to you... shudders.

Klai can have her time in a LGTS/Pocket Mirror themed room. I know, I know, I'm a goddamn saint. Not my personal interest of course, but, I know my cilentle.

Clown... clown clown clown clown clown... can I send them to the circus from Madagascar. Afro circus afro circus afro polka dot polka dot polka dot afro.

Beth! Beth!!! I'm sending you to... Bonnie's Bakery!

Wait. Wait no not Bonnie's Bakery. Not that one.

Cooking Mama, that's the one. Final answer. Go make your silly foods, bestie. I do want a discount though I am hungry. /j

Pins feels like a Home Safety Hotline girlie. If you don't know the game, bestie, go check it out. That game would do WONDERS in Dynathus.

Whatever, go my HSH Pins. /ref Enjoy your new room, the free computer, and the power over every life that calls your hotline, babe. Good luck!

Emma and Al are kind of a package deal, I can't separate them! And if I ever separate them, feel free to kill me actually. Okay well don't actually kill me, dying sounds painful please please please please-

Rooms for them, rooms for them... hmm. I think they'd be fun roommates for a Dollmare themed room or the Inn-Sanity as well. They'd make the horrors real fun real fast, me thinks. I could count on them to have my back in these worlds.

They're fun people, so, their rooms should reflect that.

Me, personally? I think Rina deserves a cute room, something reflecting her fun personality and amazing presence!

I'm sending you back to your FNaF phase. sowwy. You'll forgive me, righttttt? Rightttt????? Righttt!

I think a FNaF Joy of Creation room for Rina would just be... a little silly, teehee!!

Lupi... hmm. Congrats, you're getting an Honkai Impact 3rd themed room, specifically, the Elysium Realm. You now have an in-home bar, ain't that nice?

Orange can have a DHMIS room, I think the vibes fit them perfectly. Fun, colorful, slightly cursed, tons of plotting plans to have, and overall just extremely silly and fun to visit.

Joe. Omori room. All three spaces included. Enough said.

.

.

.

Well, that's it. If I missed you, let me know! This post took forever to think of and make. Teehee.